


Stranger

by LynHaundend



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alcohol, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Drinking to Cope, Implied/Referenced Break Up, M/M, Self-Esteem Issues, because the plot says so., context? who is she? never heard of her, duh - Freeform, human!AU, implied referenced fight, implied/referenced toxic relationship, kinda tho
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-12
Updated: 2020-03-21
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:53:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23113501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LynHaundend/pseuds/LynHaundend
Summary: Virgil finds himself alone in his apartment on the verge of an attack.Yup, that's all you got for now.Roman will appear eventually, you've seen the tags.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11
Collections: Finish something goddammit





	1. I can get real fucked up by myself in my own Hell

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [To Forget You](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22965748) by [PeridotWritesFic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeridotWritesFic/pseuds/PeridotWritesFic). 



> I make absolutly zero promeses about this.  
> This is an exercise to force me to do and finish shit.  
> "To Forget You" from PeridotWritesFic gave me the idea of using a song as inspiration for the plot.  
> The song in question is Stranger by Avonlea: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V7cx3-wiQL0  
> Originally, it was going to be a one-shot but my hand sliped... wich is also the reason why I might never finish this. In any case I don´t think that it will be longer than three chapters.  
> this is how you sell your work, right?.

He couldn't do this. He couldn't, he can't, there was no way, _there is no way_. His head was spinning, his body felt like it weighed a thousand pounds, his limbs uncoordinated, flaccid. He could barely stand up. “Couch”, he told himself using every fiber of his brain to try to figure out what to do next. He stumbled away from the slam shut door, which sound was still patent in his ears and let himself flop on the couch. He immediately regretted that decision. Some part of his brain was hoping to find an embrace there or at least some delicate fingers loosely playing with his hair. A sob escaped without permission and then he couldn't stop.

He cried so much that he couldn't understand how all this water was inside of him in the first place. And even though it was a lot, he knew that it was only the beginning. He felt that knot grow in his chest and his throat. Being aware of it only made it worse. _Perfect, now he was panicking about panicking_. He had to calm himself down, he couldn't go through this alone.  
“Four in, wait seven and release eight, Virgil”, said a voice in his head that sounded a lot like Logan’s, although he knew that his friend would have used more precise terminology. But even if the voice in his head was right about the advice, he couldn't do it. He lost count, he started getting more and more nervous about failing the exercise and his breathing became erratic between each attempt. _Way to go, Sanders_ , he thought to himself.  
“Okay, that didn’t work, there is no problem, we can try something else. Name five things you can see” Wow, when had he gained the ability to hear his friend on his mind? It was probably due to all the times he had helped through his attacks. Either that or he was completely losing his mind, but he did not have the energy to think about that right then. Neither had he the strength to try that exercise. He knew the bottom line: you are safe, it's all in your head, everything will be fine... Fuck that, everything was a big pile of bullshit, and he was alone, and _this_ was one of the worst-case scenarios and... and... fuck, the breathing, he forgot about that. While he was forcing himself to breathe, at whatever rhythm as long as there was oxygen getting to his _stupid_ , _useless_ brain, another voice came to his mind “why don’t you try to drink a glass of water kiddo?”

Water... yes, he could do that. 

The kitchen wasn’t too far away. Trying his best to ignore his head, that somehow felt way light and way too heavy at the same time, he reached to the sink, poured himself a glass of water, and sat on the counter. Logan would have hated that. He would nave started scolding him about the inappropriateness and the lack of salubrity that sitting on the place where one cooks implies and also on the fact that he most certainly had a low blood pressure right now and therefore he should be close to the floor to avoid major injuries if he were to lose consciousness. 

But Logan wasn’t there, and neither was Patton. His two best friends had moved away a year ago and they surely were asleep given the different time zones. He couldn't just call and wake them up, he reasoned while drinking the water. _What would be the point?_ They were way too far away to be able to do anything and it would only upset them. He was a mess and his friends weren’t there to talk to him and calm him down and his b... no, he couldn't think about him right now...

Somehow a tiny corner of his mind realized that he was holding the glass way to tight and carefully put it away. Suddenly, his kitchen didn’t felt safe anymore. It was drowning him with memories, with the fact _he_ had touched every inch of the place where he was trying to calm down. He had to get out of there. _Now_. 

Making like the first impulsive decision in his life, probably because his brain was too exhausted to think about all the things that could go wrong, he walked to the bathroom and looked at the mirror. He looked like shit. His eyes were red, his hair was a disaster and he looked even paler than usual. Also, he was still wearing his work shirt. That wouldn't do. He hated his job. Doing a quick mental list of things that he needed to do right now, he took a deep breath and started doing his makeup. It was nice being able to control something and it had the bonus of making him look like a person, so no one would stop him and ask if he was okay. Foundation, eyeliner, black eyeshadow, dark purple lipstick. He focused all of his attention on not messing up his face so he could ignore the half-empty cabinets and his lonely toothbrush. He was almost satisfied with his face when he found his single black paper clip earring at the back of one of the drawers. With something that almost could have been interpreted as a smile, he put it on and walked to his bedroom determined to follow his mental list. 

He was almost floating around the house as if he was one of the infinite ghost that he could feel right now. Without looking at anything but the wardrobe, he tiptoed against it to reach the box that was at the top. His heart did something when he opened it and found his old hoodie. He couldn't figure out what was he feeling, but feeling something was better than feeling nothing and he _needed_ to get out of there. The reflection on his feelings would have to wait. Probably until Patton forces him to do so. He took off his work clothes and quickly changed them for an MCR tee and some ripped jeans that were inside the box. Grabbing his hoodie he left the room without looking back. Wallet, keys, headphones, cellphone. His heart ached a little more when he noticed that he hadn’t had any notifications. Not a miss call, not a single “I’m sorry” text. Gathering all his strength and determination, he took another deep breath and left the apartment.


	2. Watch as I chuck and chug

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Virgil finds a refuge in a bar. But this is a fanfic, so peace was never an option.  
> Also, Roman is there.  
> I'm so good at summaries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DuquesaDeMiel was kind enough to beta read this and made sure that it didn't suck that much.  
> Also she is the one who knows proper english so she checked that out too.
> 
> Stranger by Avonlea: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V7cx3-wiQL0

The air outside was oddly calming. He would have never gone out on his street on a Saturday night, since it was awfully close to the pubs' zone of the city. He didn’t like crowds, but it was the better option at the time. Nothing good could come out of locking himself in his apartment and letting his thoughts and feelings drown him. Nope, he would rather drown himself on a good cocktail, maybe something fruity, _or at least something cheap with a lot of alcohol in it_ he thought remembering the he didn’t have a lot of money in his wallet. There was a bar just around the corner and hopefully, he would be just drunk enough to not care about his empty apartment once he came back.

Headphones on, hoodie up. He might have needed to be surrounded by humans at that moment, but that didn’t mean that he would actually _talk to_ anybody. The bar was quite busy, almost too many people for him. Someone laughed ridiculously loud, enough to make themselves heard through his headphones. _What a psycho_ , he thought to himself as he absently turned up the volume of his music. Yeah, he would soon be completely deaf because of this, but it would be absolutely worth it. He sat on a shitty stool in the furthest corner of the bar counter. The bartender gave him a confused look, but took his order without saying anything else. _Maybe this place could be bearable after all_ he thought as he looked around finding a lot of photos in the wall behind the bar and a lot of LGTBQ+ and musical posters everywhere else. He lost interest quickly and started scrolling through Tumblr while he waited, feeling much calmer. Of course, that couldn't last much longer. Someone pushed him, trying to get the bartender’s attention.

\- Leo! Leo! - he screamed, waving an arm to the other.

 _What an entitled asshole_ he thought as the poor bartender made his way with his vodka and soda. Almost without letting the man leave him his drink, the obnoxious stranger, dressed on a bordeau button-up shirt with little crowns printed in a pattern and way too much gel in his hair, started talking, monopolizing the attention of the poor worker. Virgil might hate his work, but at least he didn't have to deal with idiots like this for a living. Virgil spaced out, purposely ignoring the man on the red shirt who was talking way too loudly and gesturing with open arms almost hitting Virgil several times without realizing. Stirring his drink, he started to second guess whether he should be there at all: what kind of person goes to a bar after _that_? what was he thinking when he ordered his drink? He knew perfectly that his anxiety pills and alcohol didn’t mix well... 

Suddenly, some part of his brain caught part of the monologue that the idiot was performing at his side.

\- I mean, I get it, it’s Hawaii, but they are going for a lame convention! And I swear that not so long ago, they would have just stayed out all night long and then slept on the plane! But, no! They’ve grown lame and boring and left me all alone with no choice but to go back home all on my own this early on a Saturday! 

It looked like the bartender was going to point something out when both of them froze at the sound of a broken glass near them.

 _Hawaii_ , _lame_ , _boring_... those words resonated and echoed on Virgil’s skull and he could feel his chest growing heavy with the memories from earlier that night... and the memories of the past few months if he was being honest. Before his brain could process all the information on how was he feeling and what was happening, his arm grabbed his glass, he chugged his drink and put it back. Sure, that was his intention, but not being able to process his actions, his arm just dropped like dead weight. The bottom of the glass shattered into pieces in the counter and his eyes went wide with the realization of what he had just done. Abruptly, everybody went silent in the pub and everyone's eyes were on him... but before he could start apologizing, people went back to chatting and minding their own business, as it was evident that it had been an accident and not the beginning of a fight. Well, everybody but the two men that were right in front of him.

Virgil felt his breathing becoming erratic under their gaze and he had to take several minutes of breathing exercises with his eyes closed before he could say anything.

\- I’m s... I’m sorry - he said sheepishly, forcing himself to look up only to find out that the bartender was gone and that the loud man in the bordeaux shirt was still staring at him with concern.

\- No, it’s okay, it happens every night. - he assured him, appearing much more calmer and softer than previously - but are you alright?

\- Yeah, I just ... spaced out... and didn't realize what I was doing

_Earth, please swallow me, what have I done, I’m always making things worse, I was even making fun of him ten minutes ago, I have to do something..._

\- I.. I.. will pay for it.. an..and do you need help cleaning it? I could- he reached for the broken glasses to start picking them out

\- Nononono, pleasedon'tyouaregonnagethurt- he rushed to stop him from getting hurt, grabbing his hands firmly but carefully to avoid the shattered glass on the table.

Virgil's eyes opened widely at the unexpected invasion of his personal space as he hissed and pulled away causing the shitty stool to stagger, almost making him fell.

\- Oh, shit, I'm so sorry, I didn’t mean to... - said the other, putting his hands up and looking at him concerned before pulling one hand through his hair- Hey, look...I'm not looking to intrude or anything, but, how many drinks did you have?

 _why the fuck do you care?_ he thought and he could have said that, but he had just broken a glass and almost fell to the floor. He was giving all kind of drunk vibes and, honestly he should have been grateful that they weren't kicking him out

\- Mmh... umm actually, this was my first...- he mumbled, looking down with embarrassment, only to be brought back to the conversation by a deep, nervous laugh 

\- Sorry, it’s just...- he stuttered while still laughing-it’s just that, honestly until just now I thought that you were too drunk and needed to go home. but now I’m certain that what you need is several more drinks.

Somehow his eyes were shining. 

_What the actual fuck is happening right now._ The day had been an emotional rollercoaster that didn't give signs to stop anytime soon and Virgil’s head had trouble processing anything...

\- Who... why..no... what the fuck?- _shit, did I said that out loud_? now he would be definitely kicked out for that. this man was way bigger than him and could easily pick him up and throw him out the door... okay, maybe he was exaggerating, and the little corner of his mind that was thinking of less than appropriate scenarios with that bit of knowledge wasn't helping.

But against all his anxious expectations, the other man just kept laughing

\- Look _hot topic_ ,- _did he just call me that??? WTF?_ \- I’ve been around here enough to know what's behind a broken glass: it could be clumsiness, and it doesn't look like it, it can be the start of a fight and that is hard to get alone in a corner with your headphones on. So, it must be the last option... - he made a dramatic pause waiting for the other to engage in the conversation.

A few seconds of an intense glare competition passed until Virgil yielded and look down still ashamed about the trouble he had caused

\- What... is the last... option?- he asked fearing what was ahead and fixing his glare on the floor. He might think that he was crazy and send him to a mental institution, or he could say that only ungraceful assholes break glasses... or... or...

he felt the other man move awkwardly on his stool and sight

\- Hey, first of all, look up, Charly Frown.- he waited until Virgil finally raised his eyes- better - he passed his hand through his hair again.. was that a nervous tick? _was he nervous? why?_ \- you did anything wrong, and nobody is mad at you. As I said earlier, this happens all the time, although it is mainly because of clumsiness...

Virgil couldn't help the snort at the anxiety-textbook-approach, building up his defenses.

\- Don't patronize me, you don’t know what's gonna happen. the bartender could be looking for a way to kick me out without making a fuzz right now, or even talking to the owner so I'm never allowed in this shithole again or ...

His breathing and voice started to fail him as his anger with himself, the obnoxious guy, and his anxiety fermented inside him. A loud noise startled and grounded him back to reality... was he at him laughing again?

\- What are you laughing at, douchebag? - he asked, more harshly than he actually intended, although the other man didn’t seem to notice. 

\- Oh, sunshine, I’m only laughing because none of those scenarios are gonna happen. - he answered, with a very cocky tone.

\- And how could you be so sure?- He wasn’t sure why, but fighting felt right, even if it was for a stupid reason. He needed to let go of some steam.

What didn’t feel so right, though, was the fact that the other’s smile did not flank. _Maybe he’s a psycho after all..._

\- Well, for starters, _I_ am the owner of this shithole, so I'm not patronizing you when I tell you that you are not in trouble.

Virgil’s stomach dropped and he got paler. He then turned back to the pictures behind the bar, and it was so obvious that the other man was in every single one of them that it hurt his pride. Of course, this day was getting worse, he was so stupid and everything went wrong, he just wanted to disappear from the face of the earth already... he let out a groan and dropped his head on the counter almost wishing to hit the broken glass, but deciding to be careful at the last second.

An awkward silence lingered over them, as Virgil kept spiraling down and being awfully aware of his surroundings that were almost overwhelming him. After a while, he felt the other man inhale loudly.

\- So...- he mutters doubtful, not sure if breaking the silence was the best option-...do you still wanna know?

Virgil turned his head to him not being able to process any information at the moment.

\- You know, what is the last option... - he tried to keep the conversation as casual but he was shifting permanently on his stool as if no position were the right one to address the pale face in front of him.

All his attempts were in vain though, because he only got more confusion from Virgil, whose brain had given up like half an hour ago.

\- My hypothesis of why you ended up breaking my glass... - he clarified worrying at the lack of response.

A minute of silence passed, as Virgil’s brain made sense of what the weird man was saying.

\- Sure, whatever- he said, while trying to sit properly remembering the broken glass close to his face and feeling a little more nervous (if that was possible).

The annoying grin came back to the obnoxiously gorgeous face. _Wait, what?_

\- Well, it often means that you had a hellish day and what you need right now isn't to go home and sulk about it, but a few more drinks to drown the pain. 

Virgil chuckled and felt a little lighter since that was not too far from his reasoning.

\- Well, you ain't totally wrong- he conceded, looking the broken glass hopelessly, and knowing that now he wouldn't have enough money to get as drunk as he needed to start to forget all his bullshit.

He lifted his head to say his goodbyes; he didn't have much more money, and the situation was way too awkward already, when he found himself facing a big frown.

\- Okay, this - he gestured at his corner with more energy than before. _How wasn’t he tired already?_ \- will not do. Do you have your car key on you?- he asked more serious this time.

That question took Virgil so much by surprise that he found himself telling the truth without questioning.

\- Umm, no, actually I don't have one, and even if I did, I live down the block, so I wouldn’t bring it...

The other man's face lighted up

\- Well, that settles it. I’ve been abandoned by my friends and need someone to talk to. And you need more alcohol, which I can provide, on the house, of course. 

Shockingly, Virgil didn't think much about it: his whole system had gone in a ”this may as well just happen” mood.

\- Yeah, sure - he agreed, quietly

The other one’s smile went even wider, _how could someone smile so much?_ and turned to the bartender who had finally came back to pick up the broken glasses.

\- Leo! my most loyal employee! would you be so kind as to bring me my usual and a special to the sulking man over here?

The bartender arched an eyebrow and gave his boss a weird half-smile. 

\- Sure, thing. A Vesper Martini and a Mixed Berry Mojito, coming up.

Mixed Berry, yeah, that didn’t sound so bad...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I fucking hate dialogues.  
> Anyway, if someone could tell why a Vesper Martini is Roman's usual they'll get bragging points.


End file.
